A Heart's Longing
by TXMedic
Summary: Dave gets an education and Racetrack heeds Spot's advise. Completed.
1. Default Chapter

The usual disclaimer applies. I don't own anything but my furniture and about 300 books. No profit is made. If it were, I'd be writing this on a beach in Hawaii.  
  
A Heart's Longing  
  
How did I end up here? How did I lose control and let my guard down, so that I ended up sitting here on this damn uncomfortable fire escape, freezing to death in the snow? I'm staring through the window into the warm, bright room inside, wishing with all my might that I could be a part of what I see. Knowing all the while, that I can't. I don't belong there, no matter how much I wish it to be. Suddenly, it's all I can do to keep from bawling like a damn baby.  
  
You ever want something so badly that you'd give anything, say anything, do anything to get it? Something you knew no matter what you did, you could never have? Want it so badly that your heart just ached for it, and it was all you thought of every night when it got dark and the quiet pressed all around you?  
  
I did. Of course, that ache had been there for years but sort of pushed to the back of my mind. The years had worn it to a dull pain that I could ignore without much thought. Except at night. It took a little work at night.  
  
A few weeks ago, something happened that reawakened the sharp, stabbing pain of longing I'd learned to ignore. And, worse, made me jealous of three of my friends. That, I'm ashamed of. I said and did things that I wish I could take back. That's the trouble with words. You can use them to hurt and, once spoken, they can never be undone. The very sound of them lingers in the memory.  
  
I never have learned to think before I speak.  
  
Fortunately, the best thing about friends is their willingness to forgive us our weaknesses. It helped that Jack had been there, and sorta knew what I was feelin'. Les was too young to understand, or realize anything had been going on. Dave, though-now Dave was harder. He couldn't really understand. And I'm glad he couldn't. I'm glad he didn't have the experience I had, so he'd know how I felt. And I'm still a little jealous. I can't help it.  
  
It all started Thanksgiving, I guess. Or, maybe the day before....  
  
******  
  
It was cold. Colder than usual for that time o' year, and windy. The kind of wind that just blows right through ya. It was going to be a bitter cold winter, we could tell. Already boys were trickling in to the Lodgin' House to sleep at night. More than we usually had this time of year. We'd be doubling up in the beds in a few weeks.  
  
Typically, we doubled up the little kids first. They was small enough that they still had room in the bed, plus it kept them warm at night without havin' to scrounge up more blankets. Us older kids would be sharin' soon enough. Or sneakin' off to the smaller room Kloppman uses as an infirmary to sleep, if there wasn't any sick kids in there. Hey, us older kids earned the right to sleep in our own beds. Just survivin' that long says something.  
  
Anyways, it was the day before Thanksgiving. Kloppman woke us up at five in the mornin', as usual. I really hate the sound of that man's voice early in the mornin'. I hate the sound of anything that early in the mornin'.  
  
I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed my vest. I was already mostly dressed, having slept in my pants, shirt and socks to keep warm. I'd need to wash my spare shirt some time today. I really did need to buy a new one, but hated the thought of spending the money. Not that I had all that much to begin with. Maybe one of the guys had outgrown one of theirs.  
  
Hardly anybody got hand-me-downs from me, since it seemed to take a damn long time for me to outgrow anything. I generally wore out my clothes before I could grow out of them.  
  
Ah, well. I grabbed my hat and shoved it into my back pocket, then followed Kid Blink and Mush into the washroom. Mush was laughin' at somethin' Jack said, but Mush is always laughin' at somethin' or other. I smiled at Blink and we both just shook our heads.  
  
Somebody, I think it was Dutchy-hey, don't let the glasses and innocent look fool ya, he can be a prankster-started a shaving soap war. Before ya knew it, soap was flyin' everywhere. It's a wonder nobody got cut with one of the razors. Once it finally ended-Snitch threatened to go, well, snitch to Kloppy-I didn't have to lather soap on my face to shave. It was already there. 'Course, most of us don't really need to shave that often, but it makes us feel older.  
  
Once all of us were ready, if not willing, we ran down the stairs and out the door to begin another day of sellin' papes. Kloppman, as usual, counted us on the way out. He was checkin' for kids who'd maybe snuck in the window and therefore hadn't paid their six cents for board.  
  
If ya sneak in through the window, ya gotta remember to sneak back out through the window. Lesson number one. Lesson number two: if ya have to double up in the winter, don't double up with Snaps. He'll drive ya nuts.  
  
As we horsed around and chased each other down the street, I was already figurin' the best place to sell my papes. The next day was a holiday, and we'd only have one edition instead of the usual two. Three if something really big happened. So, I'd need to sell as many as possible today to make up for less tomorrow.  
  
No, I wasn't going to the tracks. Flat season was over, so no races for me. No more until spring. I'd probably end up sellin' at City Hall Park. I passed by it on the way to the bridge during race season, and sometimes sold a few there before going to the track. Another kid would probably be there, but we could share. Or fight for it. Win or lose, I'd sell papes. Losing got you sympathy from the ladies. Especially if you can manage a few tears.  
  
By the time we'd had our bread and coffee, bitter as always, from the nuns and reached the distribution center, I'd pretty much decided I wasn't in the mood for a fight. Maybe I'd just tag along with Mush and Blink and sell at Central Park. It was big enough for all of us.  
  
In the end, I wound up selling at City Hall Park after all. As we were all lined up to get our papes, I heard Swifty say he heard Paddy had been run over by a streetcar the day before. Paddy was the kid that sold at City Hall Park. I kinda felt bad for sellin' at the spot that was open just 'cause some poor newsie was killed. But, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, to sell your papes.  
  
Making my way to the park, I cursed the wind that found its way inside my jacket and the three layers I wore under it. The hand that wasn't carrying my papes was shoved in my trouser pocket, seeking warmth that couldn't be found. If I didn't buy a new shirt, maybe I'd buy some gloves instead. And a scarf. Jeez, it was cold.  
  
It's harder to sell on a cold, windy day like that. The gray clouds hung overhead, heavy with promised rain. Or maybe even sleet. I couldn't tell if it was cold enough for that. I hoped it wasn't.  
  
Yep, on a day like that you really had to be creative with the headlines. I used every trick I knew that day, to sell my papes. I even threw in the pitiful, stuttering newsboy routine. That got me a few tips.  
  
There were a few advantages of being small and looking younger than you actually were. When my hands are freezing and my nose is running from the cold, I'll use pity. If it buys me a bed and dinner, I'll take it. I ain't that proud. Not in the winter. Pride can kill ya in the winter.  
  
At least my feet were warm.  
  
I'd lost my savings when I'd hired Spot Conlon and his Brooklyn newsies to look after Jack and the fellas back in the summer. I was in trouble, and that trouble threatened my friends. Spot made sure nothin' happened to them. Over the last few months, I got most of it back from sellin' papes and winnin' poker.  
  
Although, I got a sneaking suspicion Spot let me win some of it. I'm good, yeah, but Spot ain't that bad. I didn't say anything, because I knew he really didn't want to keep my money in the first place. He feels better, and I kept my reputation. It was a win-win situation.  
  
I used the money to buy a good new pair of boots. With matchin' laces, even. I may not be growing taller, but my feet are growing longer. Maybe the rest of me just ain't caught up yet. When the old man that sold me the boots got a good look at the state of my socks, he threw in a new pair for free since the new boots had taken most of my money. I gave my old shoes to Snipeshooter. Nothin' goes to waste around the Lodgin' House. If it don't fit you, it'll fit another kid.  
  
Anyways, pickin's were slim that day. I sold all but ten of my papes and after another fruitless hour, knew that was all I was gonna sell. Even fifty was a good number on a day like that, so I didn't feel too bad. I left the park to head back to the distribution center.  
  
See, after we had our strike, The World agreed to buy back our unsold papers. At least I'd get my money back from the papes I had left. Which was about the only good thing about the day. Maybe it is bad luck to sell on some dead kid's spot.  
  
I was walkin' down the street, tryin' to decide how many afternoon papes I'd buy later, when some damn fool telegraph messenger ran me down with his bicycle. A little kid got away from his mother and ran out into the street. The messenger didn't see him until it was too late and had to swerve. Unfortunately for me, I was in his way. I saw him coming, but just didn't have time to move.  
  
One of his handlebars caught me in the chest and we both went down. Boy, did that hurt. I fell backwards, losing my papes and skinning both me elbows as I hit the cobblestones. The messenger flew off his bicycle and landed on top of me. His head hit my face, and it felt like my cheek exploded.  
  
The crazy dame with the kid had the nerve to yell at us. Somethin' or other about trying to get her little boy killed. Like walkin' down the street, mindin' my own business is against the law or somethin'. Some people are nuts, if you ask me.  
  
The messenger finally managed to untangle himself from both the bicycle and me and climbed to his feet. His nose was bleeding, probably from the impact with my face. As he began to inspect his bicycle for damage, I got to my knees and gathered up my scattered papes. Two were torn and useless. Great. Now I only had eight to sell back.  
  
Then the guy starts to yell at me about the damage to his bicycle. Told me I'd have to pay for the repairs. I told him he could try and take it from me. Stupid kid thought since he was bigger than me, he could do it. Next thing ya know, we're rollin' around on the ground again.  
  
I didn't even hear the cop run up to us. It wasn't until my shirt collar suddenly tried to strangle me as someone pulled me up, that I realized the bulls had come to break up our little disagreement. Well, I knew who'd come up with the short end of the stick in this one. The respectable messenger in his bright uniform jacket, or the ragged newsie?  
  
Yep, I'd lose.  
  
Sure enough, the messenger starts yellin' about how I knocked him off his bike and dented it and now he's got a bloody nose. The copper didn't even bother to get my side of the story, just grabbed my jacket and started shaking me. He was yellin' something or other about jail or an orphanage, but I didn't stick around to hear the rest of it. I jerked on a coupla buttons and loosened my jacket. I managed to squirm out of it, blew them both a raspberry, and took off running.  
  
Snyder may not be running the refuge anymore, but one corrupt official is just as bad as any other. Better food or not, the place was still a jail for kids. I did my time in the refuge as a kid and I ain't goin' back there.  
  
Once I was out of sight of the cop, I slowed down and turned toward Central Park, more than a little angry. Now I was out the whole ten papes, and my coat. No papes to sell back, I'd lost my jacket, my chest hurt and I was pretty sure I had another shiner. Seemed to me that I'd pretty much kept a shiner since the strike. One black eye would no sooner heal, than I'd get another one.  
  
Maybe it'd help me sell papes tomorrow. It would be all kinds of colors by tomorrow morning. Gets ya sympathy from the hoity-toity dames who think they're doin' ya a favor by buyin' your papes. Like a coupla copper pennies is gonna make my life so much better. Crazy broads.  
  
By the time I found Mush and Blink at Central Park, I was in a pretty sour mood. Taking a deep breath, I closed the gap between me and my friends. I knew they was gonna mess with me about the new shiner. I was right.  
  
"Hey, Racetrack! Nice shiner."  
  
Mush thought he was such a comedian. "Hey Mush."  
  
"You lose another bet, Race?"  
  
Blink was laughing and nudging Mush. As if Mush wasn't already laughing and pointing at my face. I thought I'd set the record straight, before they started making up whoppers about me losing some bet.  
  
"No, I didn't lose a bet, ya bum. I got run over by a telegraph messenger."  
  
Okay, so maybe I shoulda let them spread stories of some daring bet I'd made and lost. I thought they were gonna fall over, they was laughin' so hard. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It'll sell forty papes tomorrow, easy."  
  
"If you say so, Race." Blink was even worse when he was patronizing. And, yeah, I know what that word means. I looked it up in Kloppy's dictionary, after reading it in a story once. I like to know as many words as I can, so I can use 'em to improve the lousy headlines.  
  
"C'mon, Race. You can help us finish selling our papes."  
  
I took the papes Mush handed me, but thought I'd mess with him a little. "What's in it for me?"  
  
Sharing a look with Blink, Mush shrugged his shoulders and smiled at me. "I'll buy ya a cuppa coffee to warm ya up, seein' as how you seem to have lost your jacket somewhere along the way."  
  
Did I mention Mush and Blink were my pals? "Sure, I'll help ya."  
  
I took a few papes from each and wandered down the block a little ways then decided to cross the street and sell on the other side. I was less likely to take customers from them that way.  
  
People were in a hurry, bustling down the street in their haste to get outta the wind. Getting them to stop and buy a newspaper is an art, let me tell ya. You have to sort of plant yourself right in their way, so they hafta stop. If you can get 'em to stop, 9 times outta 10 you'll get 'em to buy a pape just so they can leave and get on with their business.  
  
With no jacket and holes in the elbows of my shirtsleeves, I looked a mess. Add to that my rapidly swelling cheek and eye and I was certainly an object of pity. I used their pity, and had them buying my papes out of sheer guilt. They were warm, in clean clothes and didn't get soaked that morning. Their day was already a hundred times better than mine. It made 'em feel better to give the poor kid a nickel.  
  
So far, I was makin' a profit on Mush and Blink's papes. I'd buy my own coffee. Maybe the day was lookin' a little better. I sold my last pape to some ditzy dame I thought was actually gonna break down and cry. She was ravin' on and on about the fate of humanity or some such load of nonsense. Crazy old bat. I got a dime out of her, though, so I wish her long life.  
  
By the time I made it back to Mush and Blink, they'd finished selling their papes so we all headed over to Tibby's for lunch. I gave 'em the pennies for the papes they'd given me, plus a little extra. I still ended up with more than I woulda gotten for those lost ten papes.  
  
By the time we got to Tibby's Blink had almost had Mush talked into letting one of us give him a shiner, so they'd have better luck sellin' papes tomorrow. Almost. Mush may be a little naïve, but he ain't stupid. It was fun messin' with him, though.  
  
The burst of warm air that greeted us when Blink opened the door made me shiver. My face was tingly from the cold and my nose dripped like the pump in the washroom back at the Lodgin' House. I was grateful for the heat inside Tibby's, let me tell ya. I followed Mush and Blink to the back, where Jack sat at a table with a few of the other fellas.  
  
Everyone asked me questions at once, about the shiner and my missing coat. I took my time sitting down, making 'em wait and trying to figure out the best way of improvin' the truth. Hey, where d'ya think Jack learned it from? Me and Skittery taught him. I learned it from a Brooklyn kid named Big Tom who sold out at the races. Don't know where Skitts got it from. Never asked him. Big Tom got caught up with some mean characters out at the track about five years ago, and was sent up the river to Sing Sing. But, that's another story.  
  
Since I'd already told Kid Blink and Mush the truth, I figured there wasn't a way to stretch the truth seein' as how they'd just tell what really happened. So, I told the guys how it really was. You ain't never heard such a racket in Tibby's since the strike. I though Boots was gonna fall outta his chair. Until I slapped him upside the head for laughin' at me.  
  
'Course, all that got me was a slap upside my own head from Jack. Then another from Boots. Ya know, I really wasn't havin' a good day. Jack was laughing with the others, but I could see the concern in his eyes. He knew as well as I did that I'd have to come up with the money for a new coat. Winter was gonna be bad. A kid could die in that kinda cold with no coat.  
  
I smiled at him that cocky smile of mine, to let him know I'd take care of myself. I'd find a way to get the money. Sell more papes, find some poker games or sell my watch. Okay, so I wouldn't actually sell the watch. I'd freeze first. But, Jack didn't need to know that.  
  
After lunch, I went back to the lodgin' house and pulled my spare shirt on over my other one. Two shirts, an undershirt and my vest were better than nothing. I talked to Kloppy for a little while, convincing him I was okay and that I wasn't in danger of being dragged off by the bulls. After checking the time, I headed over to the distribution center to get the evening papes.  
  
If it was cold before, it was downright freezing now. I was starting to wish I'd brought the blanket off my bed. When I caught up to the other fellas standing in line, I wedged myself between Jack and Davy, hoping they'd block the wind and maybe provide a little warmth. I think Dave was a little annoyed at first.  
  
"Do you mind, Racetrack? I was here first."  
  
I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and pressed even closer to Jack. I started to smart off to Dave, but Jack beat me to it.  
  
"Leave him alone, Dave. He can do whatever he needs to, to keep warm. He ain't got a nice thick coat like you do."  
  
I was a little surprised that Jack would talk like that to his new best friend. I think David was, too.  
  
"Sorry, Jack." He shrugged at me, and sort of smiled an apology. "I didn't mean anything by it, Race."  
  
"If you're really sorry, you'll stand a little closer and keep the wind off me." Damn, it was cold.  
  
He was laughing, but Dave did what I told him to. We inched our way to the window and got our papes. I usually sit down on the platform and go over the headlines before leaving the yard, but it was too cold to do that tonight. As Skittery passed by me, I reached out and snagged his sleeve.  
  
"Hey, Skitts, you sellin' at Grand Central tonight?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"Mind if I sell with ya?" It'd be warm inside Grand Central Station. And outta the wind.  
  
Skittery shrugged his indifference and nodded. "Sure. I'll take one side, you take the other."  
  
"It's a deal."  
  
He may be a little gloomy sometimes, but Skittery ain't so bad. I don't often sell with anybody, but I don't mind sellin' with him. He's quiet and keeps to himself. Suits me just fine.  
  
By the time the two of us finished selling our papes, it was late. People were just in too big a hurry to stop and buy a paper from a newsboy. It took a long time to get rid of all the papes. It was too late to get anything to eat anywhere, since everyone had closed up shop. Skittery and I had split a pretzel at Grand Central and that would have to do.  
  
I don't know about Skitts, but I was too tired and cold to be hungry anyway. We weren't the only ones out 'til way after dark. Jack was walking towards us as we headed for the door of the lodgin' house. Mush and Blink were just paying their board when we went in.  
  
"Any luck, you guys?"  
  
Kid Blink just shot me a sour look and Mush frowned. "Not much. We finally took the rest of our papes back to the World."  
  
"It took forever, but I finally sold all mine."  
  
Yeah, well, Jack was one of the best. He could sell a pape to a blind man. "Same with us."  
  
We all paid our six cents and trudged up the stairs to the dorm. I briefly thought of washing my face and hands, but just the hint of that cold water made me shiver. Most of the younger kids were already huddled into bed. Jack put some wood on the fire in the stove and waved the rest of us into the washroom to have a meeting. "We need to start making plans for the winter, guys."  
  
He was right. Already I counted two more boys than we'd had when we left this morning. "We're gonna run out of beds this year."  
  
The others began to murmur their disagreement, but Skittery agreed with me. He was here when we'd had a really bad winter about seven years ago. In fact, that's how I ended up at the lodgin' house. I'd lived in our flat for as long as I could, paying the rent with my earnings from bein' a newsie. Our landlord was crooked, though, and as soon as he realized my old man had beat it and left me alone, he tossed me out on my rear. Literally. I lived on the street for about three months, but winter came. And it hit hard.  
  
I was just one of five kids to show up that night. I slept in a bed with three other little kids, and was grateful for the warmth. Three weeks later, I was sleepin' on the floor with a dozen other kids. We'd simply run out of room.  
  
If this winter was as bad as that one, and it was gearing up to be worse, then we'd end up with the same problem. We'd need more blankets. And mattresses, too, if we could come up with them.  
  
"Jack, we need to check the attic to see what we got up there. Kloppy put some mattresses up there a coupla years ago. I think there might be some blankets in a trunk."  
  
Nodding thoughtfully, Skittery crossed his arms and frowned. "We might wanna think about starting a pool of money now, for what we'll need later. We can always divide up what we don't spend."  
  
"Skittery's right. We're gonna need more wood, if nothing else."  
  
Mush had a point. We'd be using it more than normal, if we were in for a bad winter. "He's right. We ain't gonna sell as much this winter, either. Everybody might as well accept that now. If we're all gonna eat, and feed all the kids that'll be coming soon, we're gonna need money for food. Food we can eat here. It's cheaper that way, than buyin' our meals at Tibby's."  
  
"Race is right. Better to sock away money now when we have it, than to wait 'til we're scraping for every penny. We can always give it back if we don't use it. Kloppman can keep it in his lock box."  
  
From the look on Jack's face, he didn't mean that as a suggestion. We all knew it would have to be done. We all nodded our agreement, then Blink had another idea. "Some of the kids coming in won't have clothes warm enough to survive the winter. We need to scrape around and gather up what we can find to make sure everyone has something warm to wear."  
  
He certainly wasn't going to get an argument from me. Of course, now I was in a real pickle. Did I spend what I had on a new jacket, or put it in the pot for everyone to use? I could always just use my blanket as a coat. Not as warm, but it would do in a pinch. As badly as I wanted to use the money on myself, I knew damn well I would share it with the others. We were a family. That's what families do.  
  
With a sigh, I nudged Dutchy. "Take up a collection. We'll get money from the other kids in the morning."  
  
Dutchy whipped off his cap and held it out. We all dug deep into our pockets and put nearly all our money into the hat. We all kept just enough to buy our papes tomorrow and a little for lunch. We all then raided our savings, wherever we'd hidden it, and added that to the growing winter fund. Jack emptied the money into his cowboy hat and headed downstairs to give it to Kloppman to keep safe for us.  
  
Me, Mush and Blink headed up to the attic to see what we could find, while the others went to bed. There wasn't much up there, besides dust and a few trunks. Mush found a stack of mattresses in the corner behind a broken bed. There were seven of them and they'd all need to be aired out and beaten with a broom to get rid of the dust.  
  
"We can take care of those tomorrow after we sell our papes." I waved toward the trunks, and knelt down to open one. "Let's see what's in these. Hopefully, there'll be some blankets in here."  
  
The one I opened had some old clothes of assorted sizes. My rotten luck continued, though. There were two coats in the trunk, but both were way too small. "Damn. Well, here's some clothes and a coupla coats. The coats are too small for me, though. What've you guys got?"  
  
Mush waved a hand in front of his face to fan away a cloud of dust and sneezed. "Well, they're a little moth-eaten, but there's a bunch of blankets in here. What about you, Blink?"  
  
"Same here." Blink held one up and we could clearly see they were a little hole-riddled. "Maybe Kloppy can sew up the holes."  
  
Well, it was a safe bet none of us would. I could sew on a button, but that was about the extent of my skills with a needle and thread. The rest of the guys were no better. "Maybe Jack can sweet-talk Sarah into fixing them for us, if Kloppy can't."  
  
Sarah was Sarah Jacobs, Dave's sister. She and Jack had sort of been together since the strike. Some of the guys thought they'd end up getting married, but I wasn't so sure. It depended on whether Jack made anything of himself once he stopped hawkin' headlines. Sarah came from a regular family. You know-mother, father, brothers. People like that are different than orphans and street rats like us. Sarah wouldn't be happy with Jack, unless he could support her.  
  
"I'm sure Kloppy can do it."  
  
I think Blink just didn't want Sarah doing anything for us. For some reason, she rubbed him the wrong way. I know he tried to hide it from Jack, but he couldn't fool Mush and me.  
  
Me and Mush shared a look and we both shrugged. I closed the lid of the trunk I'd been rummaging in and dusted my hands on my pants. "We can clean all this stuff tomorrow. Let's get to bed. I'm tired and it's cold up here."  
  
Later that night as I curled up on my lumpy mattress, under my scratchy wool blanket, I worried. We were gonna hafta work hard to get everybody through the winter this year. We'd really hafta look out for the little kids. And Crutchy. I always worried about Crutchy in the winter. He got sick so easily when it was cold. Medicine was another thing we'd have to save money for.  
  
It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. 


	2. Making plans

Thanksgiving morning broke as cold as the day before. Kloppman's voice was even more abrasive as usual. I hadn't had as much sleep as I would've liked, having stayed awake half the night thinking of one scheme after another to get what we'd need for the winter.  
  
I had come up with one plan to get clothes for the littler kids. Problem was, it would probably make Jack mad. He'd understand why I did it, but he'd be mad all the same. It would put a dent in his pride, with people whose opinion of him meant more than ours.  
  
I didn't have that problem and, as far as I was concerned, keeping the boys warm this winter was more important than Jack's pride.  
  
I'd remember that later, when it was my pride that took a knock.  
  
Anyways, I woke up and went through the usual morning ritual with the other guys. After I got my papes, I headed over to Grand Central Station to sell again with Skittery. Snipeshooter went with us, though, the little thief. I'd been missing one of my cigars that morning and I was pretty sure who'd taken it.  
  
It was even harder than the day before to sell my papes. Especially with a bunch of us tryin' to sell. Me, Snipes and Skittery weren't the only newsies to seek shelter in the station. It was after one o'clock when I finally sold my last pape to a guy who probably bought it so's he'd have an excuse to ignore his nagging wife. I told Snipes and Skitts I'd see them back at the lodgin' house for dinner then went to put my plan into action.  
  
The building I was headed to wasn't the Waldorf-Astoria, but it was better than ours. Shirts and long underwear hung from clothes lines strung from building to building. I knew more lines hung on the roof. To me, that always made me think of mothers. We didn't have clothes lines at the lodgin' house. Most of us only had one spare set of clothes, anyway, and hung them from our bunks to dry.  
  
I knew which flat was theirs since I'd been there a coupla times before. Forgoing the fire escape this time, I went in through the front door of the building and climbed the stairs.  
  
The walk from the train station had been cold, but it was slightly warmer in the hallway and I could feel my cheeks tingling as they warmed. I stopped a moment to orient myself and went over to the right door. I wiped my dripping nose, rehearsed my speech a coupla times then took a deep breath and knocked.  
  
Even though I'd been there twice before, she'd been out both times. This was the first time I'd met her. Mrs. Jacobs opened the door, wiped her hands on her apron and smiled when she saw me.  
  
"You must be one of David's friends. Come on in, young man."  
  
She put her hand on my shoulder and sort of pulled me into the room. I took off my cap and shoved it into my pocket. Dave looked surprised to see me. Not that I could blame him. I'd never been there without Jack.  
  
"Hey, Davy. Les."  
  
Les was his usual hyper self, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me further into the room. "Mom, this is Racetrack. Remember me tellin' ya about him? Hey, Racetrack, play your harmonica for us."  
  
I gently untangled myself from the kid, wondering what he'd told her about me, and kinda smiled at his mother. She was looking at Les and smiling sort of fondly at him, and I could see how much she loved him just from the look on her face. For a moment, I wondered if my own mother had ever looked at me that way.  
  
"Well, Racetrack, you look chilled to the bone. Come sit over here by the stove. For heaven's sake, child, where is your coat?"  
  
I seemed to have lost my voice, and my throat tightened with something I didn't remember having felt before. I sat where she told me to and only broke from my trance when Dave's worried voice sounded right next to me.  
  
"Is something wrong with Jack?"  
  
I shot him an annoyed look and shook my head. You'd think Jack was the only newsie in Manhattan. "Jack's fine, Davy. I ain't here 'cause of Jack."  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
I turned to look at his mother, and felt my face heat up. Suddenly, I didn't want to ask what I'd come there to ask. Gathering my courage, I launched into my story.  
  
"I came to ask your mother if she kept any of Les' old clothes. Ya know, stuff he can't wear no more. Winter's gonna be brutal this year and we're gonna have more newsies than we can handle. We're tryin' to come up with clothes and blankets for 'em. If ya got any of Les' old stuff, they'd fit some of the littler kids."  
  
There. I'd said it. I was, basically, begging clothes from a fellow newsie's family. Jack was gonna kill me.  
  
Mrs. Jacobs smiled at me a little sadly and patted me on the arm. "Why, of course dear. I do believe I have a trunk with some clothes that Les has outgrown. Sarah, will you give me a hand?"  
  
Until that moment, I hadn't even realized Sarah was in the room. Oh, boy. She was sure to tell Jack, even if Dave didn't. I was a dead man.  
  
Sarah and her mother went into another room to look for the clothes. Les was tugging on my sleeve, babbling away about school or something. Dave grabbed him by the back of his shirt and told him to pipe down, then he sat down in the chair next to me and gave me a look I couldn't quite place.  
  
"How many kids do you expect this year? I didn't realize you got so many in the winter."  
  
Well, it's not like Dave had been a newsie that long. Why would he think about it?  
  
"We'll probably get twenty more by Christmas. Maybe more. Hard to tell. Might be as bad as '92, when we had a dozen kids sleepin' on the floor."  
  
From the look on Dave's face, I could tell he'd forgotten I'd been there that long.  
  
"Why didn't Jack come with you?"  
  
That question came from Les, who'd managed to get between me an' Dave. I didn't quite know how to tell the kid that Jack would probably soak me for comin' here.  
  
"He, uh, he had to help Kloppy with Thanksgiving dinner."  
  
Dave tilted his head and gave me a surprised look. "You guys have Thanksgiving dinner at the Lodging House?"  
  
"Yeah. Why wouldn't we? We're poor, Dave, but we usually manage to have a good dinner Thanksgiving and Christmas."  
  
Besides, Kloppman helped us pay for it. But, Dave didn't need to know that. It bugged me that Dave thought we was too poor to feed ourselves a good dinner. But, then, I was there to bum some old clothes off his family.  
  
"I didn't mean anything by it, Race."  
  
I shrugged, feeling a little bad about the sarcasm that had dripped from my words. "Sorry, Dave. It just hasn't come up before, I guess. Kloppman cooks a turkey or a few chickens, depends on how much money we got. Me, Mush and Blink make the potatoes and corn. Boots bakes the bread. Don't know where he learned it, but it's great. Skittery, of all people, makes us a pie. Medda comes and eats with us some years. Spot usually comes over after he and his boys do their thing."  
  
"Somehow, I can't picture Spot Conlon cooking a turkey dinner."  
  
I had to laugh at that. Just imagining Spot standing over a stove wearing an apron, was too ridiculous to believe. "Nah, Spot don't cook. The old guy that runs the lodgin' house over in Brooklyn does most of the cookin'. They usually play poker to decide who helps him. We used to do that, 'til we realized we actually wanted to eat ours."  
  
Personally, I think that's why Spot always came over to our place. He wanted edible food. I was about to say as much, when Mrs. Jacobs came back into the room carrying a burlap sack. Sarah trailed behind her. The sack was fairly stuffed with clothes.  
  
Les was jerking on my sleeve again. "Racetrack. Hey, Racetrack."  
  
"What, kid?" Man, that kid could ask a million questions, given half the chance.  
  
Les pointed to my face and asked, "How'd ya get the shiner? Did ya get into a fight? Did ya win?"  
  
See what I mean? I shook my head and smiled a little ruefully. "Nah. Well, sorta. I got run over by a bike messenger, then we got in a little fight 'cause he wanted me to pay for the damage to his bicycle."  
  
"You didn't give the scamp any money, did you?"  
  
For some reason, it made me feel good when Mrs. Jacobs asked me that. She obviously didn't think I should have. "No, ma'am. A cop came and broke us up. We had a little misunderstanding over whose fault it was, so I took off. That's how I lost my coat."  
  
Mrs. Jacobs tut-tutted over the injustice and leaned down to give me a comforting hug. I...I can't explain the feeling I had. It stirred up memories I'd long forgotten and, for a moment, I couldn't speak. She must've sensed my reaction, because she patted me on the back and let me go. She handed me the sack and I stood up to leave. Sarah caught me by the arm as I turned to go.  
  
"Racetrack, tell Jack he's welcome to join us for dinner if he'd like."  
  
Still confused by what I was feelin', I just nodded at her. I stuttered my thanks to Mrs. Jacobs, unable to form a complete sentence for once in my life, and hurried out the door. Slipping my cap back on, I ran down the stairs in a hurry to leave that place. Once I was back outside in the cold, I stopped. Looking up to the window I knew belonged to their flat, I had the strange urge to go back. Just to feel her touch again.  
  
The touch of a mother.  
  
I walked back to the lodgin' house, but didn't realize I was there until Mush yelled down to me from the bunkroom window. Guess I wasn't much payin' attention to anything after I left the Jacobs' building.  
  
"Hey, Race, hurry up! We need help peelin' all these potatoes."  
  
I waved up at Mush to let him know I'd heard and went in the front door. Kids were running around, up and down the stairs, wrestling around on the floor and generally getting on Kloppman's last nerve. The old guy shot me a frazzled look when he saw me.  
  
"Racetrack! For the love of Mike, would you get these kids to settle down before I throw you all out into the street?"  
  
'Course I knew he didn't mean it, but I did want our dinner to be edible and it wouldn't be if Kloppman was distracted all afternoon. I dropped the sack of clothes by the desk and waded into the wrestling match. I grabbed Snitch by the back of his pants and hauled him off Snipeshooter.  
  
"Knock it off, ya bums. Make yourselves useful and get the rest o' these idiots outta Kloppy's hair."  
  
Snipeshooter glared at me and asked, "Why should we?"  
  
"Ya wanna eat tonight's dinner, don't ya?"  
  
They saw my point and split up to settle things down, or at least make the other fellas take their energy outside. I picked up the sack of clothes and went upstairs. The bunkroom was peaceful compared to the racket from downstairs. Jack was putting on a clean shirt, Mush and Blink was sittin' on my bunk, peelin' potatoes.  
  
Jack tucked his shirttails in and looked curiously at the sack I was carrying over my shoulder. "Whatchya got there, Race?"  
  
"I...well, it's just..."  
  
I was saved by Dutchy, who came up behind me and gave me a shove toward my bunk. "Whatever it is, it can wait. I've peeled all the potatoes I'm gonna peel. It's your turn."  
  
Grateful for the interruption, I laughed a little nervously and hurried over to my bunk. I dropped the sack on the floor and shoved it under the bed with my foot. "Hey, guys, sorry I'm late."  
  
Kid Blink made room for me and handed me a knife as I sat down. Mush pushed the bucket of potatoes closer to me and as I reached down to get one a shadow fell over the bucket. I looked up to see Jack standing there, tying a clean red bandana around his neck. He had this sort of amused smile on his face. I could tell he was curious about what was in the sack...and about why I was hiding it.  
  
"C'mon, Race. Why were you late, and what's in the bag?"  
  
I started to peel my potato and shrugged it off. "I was just getting some clothes for the kids that'll be comin' to stay here this winter."  
  
Tuggin' on the bottom of his vest, Jack gave me a funny look. "Glad you're thinkin' ahead, Race."  
  
But he thought I was actin' a little strange, just the same. I could tell. To try to change the subject, I pointed my knife at the clean clothes and asked Jack, "So what're you getting all dressed up for?"  
  
Jack ran a hand through his hair and smiled broadly. "After dinner, I'm headin' over to Dave's."  
  
And Sarah.  
  
That reminded me. "Oh, Sarah..." And then the brain kicked in. "Sarah, uh, will probably be happy to see you."  
  
Jeez, I'd almost told him what Sarah had said to me. Then he'd wonder where I'd seen her. Then I'd hafta tell him. Then he'd kill me. Sure, he'd find out later when he went to see the Jacobs family. But, hey, why borrow trouble before I had to?  
  
Jack smiled sorta stupidly for a minute then wandered off to the washroom. To look at himself in the mirror some more, no doubt. Mush started to giggle and Blink nudged me with his elbow, rolling his eyes. "Man, Jack's got it bad."  
  
"You ain't foolin'."  
  
We peeled potatoes in silence for a minute then Blink looked at me and asked, "I don't look that stupid when I'm goin' to meet a girl, do I?"  
  
Keeping a perfectly straight face, I nodded solemnly. "Blink, you look that stupid all the time."  
  
That, of course, set Mush off. He was rolling on the bed, holding his stomach and laughing his head off. I smiled at Blink and went back to peeling. We needed to hurry up and get them on the stove if we were gonna have mashed potatoes for dinner.  
  
As Jack's footsteps echoed down the stairs, Mush sat up and cleared his throat. "So, where'd ya get the clothes and why's it such a secret?"  
  
Craning my neck to see if Jack had really left the room, I sighed and glanced at my friends. "I got 'em from Mrs. Jacobs."  
  
"Mrs. Jacobs, as in Sarah's mother?"  
  
"Yes, Blink, Sarah's mother."  
  
"Jack's gonna kill ya when he finds out."  
  
I knew that, of course. "I know, Mush, but where else was I supposed to go? Knock on some stranger's door and ask for old clothes? I didn't know who else to ask."  
  
After a few minutes, Blink dropped his last potato in the bucket. "Jack'll see the reason behind it, but you might wanna try to avoid him tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Problem was, Jack'd be lookin' for me tonight when he got back from the Jacobs'. And maybe it wasn't fair to let Jack go over there without knowing what I'd done. "I think I should tell him before he goes over there."  
  
Mush looked at me like I'd grown another head. "Are you nuts, Race? I don't want blood on my dinner."  
  
"Jack ain't gonna hit me. Yell at me and maybe push me around a little, but he ain't gonna hit me." I hoped.  
  
"Yeah, but he'll be mad all through dinner and it'll ruin it for everybody."  
  
Well, I couldn't argue with Blink on that one. "Okay, okay. I'll do it after we eat."  
  
"Remind us to run for cover before you do."  
  
"Very funny, Blink. Very funny." 


	3. A Bluff and a Truce

Kloppman had outdone himself. Dinner was wonderful and, thanks to our pool of money, we had enough for everyone. The potatoes were the best, if ya ask me. Skittery had baked a few pies and we all practically fought each other to get a piece. Specs made sure Pie Eater only had one piece like the rest of us. I mean, the kid came by his name honestly. You hafta watch him around pie, or nobody'd get a piece.  
  
After we'd cleaned up, I saw Jack heading for the front door. It was now or never. I followed him outside, and the air was practically sucked from my lungs by the cold. The wind was blowin' hard, and those gray clouds had apparently decided to let lose a bitter mixture of rain and sleet. I ran a few steps to catch up to Jack.  
  
"Jack, wait. There's somethin' I gotta tell ya before you go to Sarah's."  
  
"Can't it wait, Race?"  
  
Wrapping my arms across my chest to stay warm, I shook my head miserably. "I really need to tell ya somethin'."  
  
Jack took a few steps back and pulled me under an awning. "What's so important we gotta stand out here and freeze ta death?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, I stared down at my boots. "That bag o' clothes I brought in today...I got 'em from Mrs. Jacobs."  
  
When I dared to look up at Jack, his face made me shiver from more than the cold. Jack was mad. Really, really mad. Holding up my hand, I tried to head things off. "Now, Jack, we need the clothes for the kids that'll be comin' in this winter. Ya know that."  
  
I could see the muscles twitching in Jack's jaw. This was gonna be bad.  
  
"We can get stuff from somewhere else. You had no right to go there and beg clothes offa Mrs. Jacobs."  
  
"C'mon, Jack. Where else was I gonna go?"  
  
"I don't care where you go, but we ain't takin' charity from Sarah's family!"  
  
"Charity's charity. What difference does it make where we get it from?" Of course, I knew what the difference was. But I still thought the end justified the means.  
  
"You know what difference it makes, Race!" Jack stepped back out into the rain and sleet, grabbing me by the back of the shirt and dragging me out with him. Leaning down so we were nose to nose, he lowered his voice and jabbed a finger at my chest. "You go get that sack of clothes. We're taking it back."  
  
I shoved his poking finger off of me and tried to reason with him. "C'mon, Jack. We need that stuff. We already got three kids small enough to wear them clothes."  
  
"You get that sack, or I'll go get it myself. Either way, it's goin' back."  
  
I knew he'd do it, too. There was obviously no reasoning with him. I had known he'd be mad, but I hadn't bargained for it to be this bad. His pride was dented a little more than I thought it would be. I was determined to keep those clothes, though.  
  
And being the devious gambler that I am, I came up with a great bluff.  
  
I let Jack literally drag me back to the lodgin' house. He gave me a shove through the front door then slammed it behind us and leaned against it. I trudged up the stairs, pretending to be upset and embarrassed. Mush and Blink followed me into the bunkroom. Once we were safely inside, I pulled them aside and let them in on it.  
  
"Mush, run up to the attic and grab those blankets with all the holes in 'em." While Mush darted out the door to do what I'd told him, I pulled Blink over to our bunk. Sliding the burlap sack out from under it, I dumped the clothes on the bed.  
  
"Blink, hide this stuff somewhere. Up in one of the trunks or something."  
  
"What's goin' on, Race?"  
  
"Ah, Jack's a little angrier than I thought he'd be over me getting this stuff from the Jacobs'. He's makin' me take it back. We need it, and I ain't takin' it back."  
  
"He'll soak ya if he finds out."  
  
"Maybe." Mush came running in just then with the blankets, so all arguments stopped as I put my idea into play. Cramming the blankets into the sack, it looked just as it had before.  
  
Blink shot me a puzzled look. "How is this better, Race? Now we don't got any extra blankets."  
  
"All part of my plan, Blink. Don't you worry...Racetrack's got it covered."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I'll remind you of that when Jack's got you pinned to the floor and is about to give you another shiner."  
  
I dug through the drawer of the little nightstand between my bunk and Snipeshooter's for something to write with. I found a little stub of a pencil and searched for something to write on. Finding a scrap of newspaper, I wrote a quick note for Mrs. Jacobs and stuck it on top of the blankets before closing the bag. Slinging the sack over my shoulder, I winked at my two friends before hurrying back down the stairs before Jack could get even angrier.  
  
From the scowl on his face, Jack hadn't yet forgiven me my breach of trust. That's okay. I knew why I'd done it, and it'd be worth it in the end. Clothes for the kids, and mended blankets. Jack didn't say a word all the way to the Jacobs' flat. I tried for several blocks to talk some sense into him, but knew all along it wouldn't work. In his eyes, I'd made him look bad in front of Sarah. Made it look like we couldn't take care of ourselves.  
  
If it wasn't gearin' up to be such a killing winter, I wouldn't have done it. Jack would see that in a few weeks. It was gonna be a long few weeks, though. Oh, brother.  
  
By the time we made it to their building, I was wet and half frozen. I wasn't looking forward to the walk back. Following Jack up the stairs, I shifted my burden and wondered if Mrs. Jacobs would follow along with my plan. Jack shot me one last dark look and knocked on the door. When Sarah opened it, Jack slipped off his hat and smiled at her.  
  
"Hey, Sarah. Ya look real nice tonight."  
  
Real smooth, Cowboy. Sarah turned around and stepped back to let Jack into the flat. He reached back and grabbed a handful of my shirt to drag me in behind him. I was getting a little tired of him doin' that.  
  
Les immediately started asking questions and bouncing around. Mr. Jacobs shook Jack's hand and shot me a curious look. I just shrugged and took off my cap. Sticking it into my pocket, I introduced myself as I reached over to shake his hand.  
  
"Heya, Mr. Jacobs. Name's Racetrack Higgins. I'm a friend of Davy's."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Racetrack." He grasped my hand to give a firm shake and frowned. "Heavens, boy, your hand is freezing."  
  
For the second time that day, I found Mrs. Jacobs fussing over me. She took the sack from me, giving me a puzzled look. I looked back at Jack and waved my arm, inviting him to explain to her why I was bringing her gift back.  
  
While Mrs. Jacobs settled me into a chair near the stove to warm up...again, Jack stood up straight and let his pride get the better of him. "I told Race to bring that stuff back, 'cause we can take care of the kids ourselves...though we appreciate your offer. Race had no right to be askin' you for those clothes."  
  
Mr. Jacobs tut-tutted and took the sack into their bedroom. When she came out, she had a big smile on her face and winked at me. I knew then that she'd seen the note, and would mend the blankets for me. She was carrying a quilt and walked around behind me to wrap it around my shoulders. She smiled at Jack and shook her head.  
  
"Jack, there's no shame in doing what you can for the other children in the lodging house. What Racetrack did, did nothing to change the way we thought of you. I find it wonderful how much you boys all look out for each other. Many grownups would do well to follow your example."  
  
I could tell that Jack was starting to regret his decision. Mr. Jacobs patted Jack on the shoulder and reassured him. "I understand how you feel, Jack. No harm done. You two are just in time for Sarah's wonderful dessert."  
  
Jack turned and shot me a look of pleading, and I knew he wanted me to leave. This was his place. He'd wormed his way into the Jacobs' lives and made a home for himself...but there was no room to share it with me. And, although I was happy for what he'd found for himself, I hated him just as much because I knew I couldn't have it too.  
  
Mrs. Jacobs started to rub my arms, to warm me up, and I suddenly realized I had to get out of there. If I didn't leave right that moment...I wouldn't leave. I was starting to want what Jack had. What Dave and Les and Sarah had. What I knew I couldn't have.  
  
I jumped to my feet and draped the quilt over my chair. I mumbled a quick apology to Mrs. Jacobs for not being able to stay, said goodbye to the others, told Jack I'd see him back at the lodgin' house and headed for the door. Mrs. Jacobs reached out to stop me as I reached for the doorknob.  
  
"Racetrack, you're soaked through. At least stay and get dry before heading back into that weather."  
  
"Thanks for your concern, Mrs. Jacobs, but I gotta a lot to do back at the lodgin' house and I better hurry. Thanks for everything you've done. Goodnight."  
  
With that, I pulled open the door and ran down the stairs and back out into the rain and sleet. I stood in the street for a few moments, taking deep breaths and blinking the rain from my eyes. What was happing to me? Where was my poker face?  
  
The walk back home was just the same as the walk back earlier, only colder and more miserable.  
  
Kloppman was still behind the counter when I shuffled through the lobby. Next thing I know, I'm sittin' in front of the fire wearing some of Kloppy's old clothes. The old man handed me a cup of hot coffee and sat down beside me. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. I don't know what he saw in my face, but he sat up a little and sighed.  
  
"What happened, Race?"  
  
What happened? I wasn't even really sure of that, myself. All I knew was that an ache was growing in my heart. It filled me and consumed me and I tried to ruthlessly chase it away. Looking up to meet Kloppman's eyes, I could feel the words burning in my throat. Wanting to be said. But I wouldn't say them. I couldn't.  
  
How babyish could I be, anyway? What would Kloppy think of me, if I told him what I was thinking about? I was one of the older kids, a leader. Someone who always kept it together, no matter what.  
  
I rubbed my fingers over my right eyebrow, trying to massage away the beginning of a headache. I wasn't going to let what I was feelin' take over me. I was a gambler, for cryin' out loud. I knew how to keep things to myself. I knew how to hide my emotions. I'd been doin' it for years.  
  
My voice said, "Nothin' happened, Kloppy. I did something I shoulda asked Jack about first, is all. No big deal."  
  
But what my mind said was, "I want my mother. I want a family."  
  
I sat up a little straighter and tried to smile at Kloppy. He squeezed my shoulder then stood. When I looked up to meet his eye, he peered down at me over the rims of his glasses. He knew a load of bull when he heard it, but he let me believe I'd fooled him. I finished my drink and went upstairs to bed as Kloppy headed back to the front desk.  
  
Two new kids came through the door as I started up the stairs, and paid their board. I took the kids upstairs with me and had a few guys shuffle around to make room. Blink and Mush knocked a few heads when some of the older guys complained about havin' to share beds. I got one of the little kids, Blue Billy...we got two kids name Billy; one has blue eyes, one brown, so one's Blue Billy and the other is Brown Billy...anyways, I got Blue Billy settled into my bed. Blink gave little Skip a leg up into the one above, and laughed quietly.  
  
"Well, it's started already. How long ya figure before we're sleepin' on the floor?"  
  
I listened to the rain and sleet hit the window by our beds for a moment then shrugged. "Two weeks."  
  
"I'd take a bet on three, but I'd probably lose." Blink was no fool. "So what happened with Jack?"  
  
I didn't feel much like talkin' about it, so I just shrugged and moved Blue over a little so I'd have room in my own bed. "I gave the blankets to Mrs. Jacobs. She musta seen the note, 'cause she didn't say anything about it. I'll go by in a few days and see when they'll be ready to bring back."  
  
Blink hauled himself up into the top bunk, shaking the whole bed frame. "That was pretty smart, Race, swapping the clothes with the torn blankets. A two-fer-one deal, and Jack none the wiser."  
  
It did make me smile a little, pullin' one over on Jackie-boy.  
  
I was lyin' in bed, pretending to sleep, when Jack came back that night. I could hear Kloppman's voice floating up the stairs, givin' Jack grief for dragging me out in that weather without a coat. I got a certain amount o' smug satisfaction with that.  
  
I listened to Jack's footsteps as they scuffed up the stairs and through the door. A brief shaft of light drifted in as he opened and shut the door. I heard him pause as he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. His footsteps seemed to echo across the room, but I knew he was tryin' to be quiet and not wake up the other boys.  
  
I could see his outline as he passed his own bunk and I knew he was comin' over to talk to me. Sure enough, he walked between me and Snipeshooter, and stood there. I looked up at him, poker face securely in place, and left it up to him to make the first move. I could tell there was a lot he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to find the words. I didn't offer any help.  
  
Finally, his shoulders slumped a little and he turned to walk back to his own bed.  
  
"Night, Race."  
  
Okay. A truce.  
  
"Night, Jack."  
  
~~~~~***~~~~~  
  
Shout-outs...I've never done these before. Mostly because this is the only fandom I write in that I've seen them. Also, this is the first story I've posted in chapters. Anyway, there's only three-  
  
Written Sparks: Thank you very much for the compliments. I enjoy writing short stories, and experimenting with humor, but don't do romance so there's no worries there.G And definitely no silly girls. I suffer Sarah only because she's canon. ::sigh::: Thanks for the offer of characters. The story is pretty much finished, but if I find myself looking for an extra name before I post the rest of it, I'll certainly keep you in mind. Thanks again for your feedback!  
  
FrenchyGoil: Thanks! Yeah, summaries can be a pain in the patootie. I just stole a few lines from Race for this story's summary. I let him do all the work.G  
  
AnUNDERCOVERnewsie: I'm glad you were bored, and glad you gave the story a chance.(lol) Very happy you like it so far, and hope I don't disappoint you with the rest of it. Thanks for your feedback.  
  
And that's it. Fortunately, I don't write stories solely for feedback and don't hold my stories hostage. Like it or lump it, I'll still write it. Thanks to all who read it, doubly to those who take the time to post feedback. I'll post the ending soon. 


	4. Pride Goes Before a Fall

Well, what was it I said about pride? Yeah, well, I found it's a lot easier to dismiss the importance of a guy's pride until it's your own that takes a knock. Live and learn, they say. I've sure learned a lot this past year, le me tell ya.  
  
I waited a week before sneaking off to the Jacobs' flat again, during the day when Davey and Les would be in school. When I picked up the sack of newly mended blankets, I had to sit through a lot of the mother-hen stuff from Mrs. Jacobs about bein' out in that weather with no coat. I'd yet to come up with the dough to buy a new one. I finally got out of there, after a bowl of the best soup I ever remember eatin', and rushed back to the lodgin' house to drop the blankets off with Kloppy.  
  
After staying a few minutes to warm up, I grabbed my papes from where I'd hidden them under the stairs and headed over to Grand Central. Sellin' had picked up a little with headlines about the winter weather. With the way we was improvin' those headlines, though, you'd think all of Manhattan was gonna be buried in snow 'til June. Hey, we kids gotta eat too.  
  
Skitts was there, along with Jackrabbit and Skip. The two little kids were wearin' coats I'd gotten from Mrs. Jacobs. I wondered how long it would be until Les saw one of 'em and said something. Oh, well.  
  
It took a long time for all of us to sell all our papes. We pooled our money together to get lunch for all of us. We got more food that way. After Skittery had sold his last pape, we all made the long walk back to the distribution center. Most of the others were already there. Mush and Blink made room for me and I went to stand between them. Blink slid over so that he was blocking me from the wind. I shot him a grateful smile then looked around.  
  
Jack was up front as usual, standing with David. As usual. Davey had his arm around Les' shoulders as he and Jack laughed about something or other. For some reason, it made me jealous. Before the strike, it was me Jack laughed with while we waited for our papes. Things had changed, and I didn't like it.  
  
I wasn't sure just why I didn't like it. I mean, I should be happy for Jack. He'd found a place with David and his family. But it was like I could see the writing on the wall. It wouldn't be long before Jack left us. A year, maybe. Two at the most, but I wouldn't put odds on him stayin' two years. He'd had a taste of a better life, and he wouldn't be satisfied until he had what David had.  
  
Of course, here I was wanting what Jack had, which made me no better. It's hard to admit stuff like that to yourself, though, ain't it?  
  
As I was standin' there, stewing about Jack and David and the rest of the Jacobs clan, David broke away from Jack and walked over to me, Blink and Mush. He had somethin' under his arm and he pulled it out when he stopped in front of me. He was all smiles as he handed it to me.  
  
"Here, Race. My mother told me to give you my old coat. She'd been meaning to donate it to charity, but kept forgetting. Guess it's a good thing. She wants you to have it."  
  
Charity, huh? And an old coat of David's, no less. I could feel the scowl creep across my face and it took everything I had to wipe it away and slip the old poker face on. I wanted nothing more than to tell Dave where he could shove that coat. But, how could I? After what I'd told Jack? Nope, I was stuck. I was gonna hafta wear that lousy coat and think of David and his family every stinkin' day until it was warm enough to ditch it.  
  
My arm felt like lead as I reached over and took the coat from Dave. Les came running over, giving me a gap-toothed grin. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me. It didn't.  
  
Slipping the coat on, I managed a tight-lipped smile. I even managed to keep my anger and indignation out of my voice. "Yeah, thanks Davey. Thank your mother for me, huh?"  
  
I was saved by the bell. Literally. When the distribution bell rang, Davey gave me one last infuriating smile and grabbed Les by the collar. "I better get my papes. See you guys around."  
  
Yeah. Sure. The coat fit pretty well. A little big, but not too bad. He'd probably outgrown it last winter. Mush slapped me on the back, all smiles and happy I could now stay fairly warm. Blink, though. The solemn look in his good eye told me he knew what I was thinkin'. Knew what a blow it was to my pride. A newsie don't have much but his pride.  
  
I shrugged at Blink, 'cause we both knew I had no choice. I'd basically told Jack to suck it up then went behind his back to get stuff from Mrs. Jacobs. Besides, I was gonna freeze to death without a coat sooner or later. Yep, I was stuck.  
  
The only good thing about that evening was that I was able to sell out at Central Park with Blink and Mush now that I had a coat. That was pretty much the high point of the night. It was hard to sell our papes, 'cause people didn't want to linger too much in the frigid night air. We'd resorted to Mush hoofing while I played the harmonica, to try to pull in customers. Worked, too, 'til the damn bulls chased us away.  
  
Jeez, can't they just let us kids earn a living? One cop had given up pretty fast, but the younger guy stuck to us like glue for two blocks. Nearly caught Blink when he slipped on a patch of ice. Me and Mush ran back for him and knocked the cop down. It earned Mush a sore knee from the guy's billy club, and me a whack on the back, but we got Blink free. Now we'd have to find somewhere else to sell for a few weeks.  
  
The three of us walked home, well me and Blink walked...Mush sort of limped, nursing our bruises and inventing new cuss words for the bulls. We'd gone out of our way in our flight from the law, so we ended up passing by Dave's building. I couldn't help but look up to see the light in their window. I wondered what Mrs. Jacobs had cooked for dinner. Then wondered why I cared.  
  
But I did. Care, I mean.  
  
Daydreaming about all the wonderful things Dave and his family probably had for dinner made it hard to swallow the beans me and the rest of the boys had that night. But I ate my beans and chunk of bread, trying to pretend it was soup or chicken or just about anything but beans.  
  
Jack didn't come back for dinner, which meant he was probably over at Sarah's. Sharing that dinner I kept thinking about. It didn't seem fair that he got a home-cooked meal, while the rest of us ate beans. At the same time, I knew it wasn't fair to blame Jack.  
  
Ya know, it's really hard to feel sorry for yourself when you think too damn much.  
  
By the time Jack came back, the rest of us had been in our beds for half an hour or so. I heard the door open and close just as I was nudging Jackrabbit's arm offa my face. Blue Billy was sleeping the other way 'round from us, so his head was at our feet. His bony little foot was pressing into my bladder and I couldn't take it any more.  
  
With a whispered swear, I untangled myself from my two bedmates and headed for the latrine. When I finished with my business and went to the sink to wash my hands, I found Jack at the next sink washing his face. For once, I shouldn't have had my poker face on. Then maybe Jack wouldn't have tried to start a conversation.  
  
Of course, if I knew how to keep my mouth shut things wouldn't have gone so badly.  
  
"Heya, Race."  
  
Avoiding eye contact, I turned on the water. "Heya, Jack."  
  
"Kloppman almost locked me out, can ya believe it?"  
  
That's where I should've kept my mouth shut. "Yeah, Jack, I can."  
  
The splashing in the sink next to me stopped. "What d'ya mean?"  
  
"You're late, Jack. For the third time this week."  
  
"You keepin' track, or what?"  
  
Or what. "I just think you oughta spend a little more time here, is all."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I could hear the challenging tone in Jack's voice that time.  
  
"You're the leader, Jack. Would it be expectin' too much for you to be here at night? While you're off at Davey's eating vegetables, warm bread with butter and...well, whatever Mrs. Jacobs cooks...Kloppy, Blink, Skitts and me are cookin' beans for the other kids. Tomorrow, you'll probably be eatin' hot soup or something over there with Sarah. Ya know what we're eatin'? Boiled potatoes and bread with no butter."  
  
"She's my girl, Race! Of course I'm gonna spend time with her when I can." Jack was winding up, now. "Sounds to me like you're jealous. I can't help it you don't have nobody."  
  
Ouch. That one hurt. Hurt even more because it was so damn true. Well, I could hit sore spots, too. "Yeah, well you're supposed to be the leader, Jack. So, lead! You need to spend more time with the newsies, 'cause it seems to me that we're leadin' ourselves. I bet Spot don't leave his guys to fend for themselves like you do. Pretty soon and we won't even need you."  
  
That was a low blow, even from me. I knew Jack was a little sensitive about his mantle of leader, especially after what happened during the strike. And comparing him to Spot was another jab. I can be a mean bastard when I wanna be.  
  
"Go to hell, Race." Jack looked like he wanted to hit me. I couldn't really blame the guy.  
  
Instead, he shoved me out of his way and stomped off to his bed. I knew by the silence that greeted me as I made my way to my own bed, that our voices had risen loud enough for most of the others to hear what had been said. Oh, well. What's done is done.  
  
I crawled under the woolen blanket and settled down between Jackrabbit and Blue. Lacing my hands behind my head, I stared up at the striped mattress above me. I laid there as loud breathing and snores signaled that the others were once again drifting off to sleep. And thought of a warm room that smelled of spices and held the laughter and love of a family.  
  
"Go to hell, Race." I was already there.  
  
~~~~~***~~~~~ 


	5. Mood Swings

The next week just seem to go downhill like a runaway carriage.  
  
It grated on my nerves to hafta wear Dave's old jacket, and putting it on the morning after our argument just made me cringe. I was in a bad mood to rival Skittery's worst days. I knew it as well as the rest of the fellas, but felt justified. Ya know? Yeah, yeah, I know. It was a stupid thing to let get to me, and I shouldn't have taken it out on the other guys.  
  
It's easy to say that now. Not so easy to see then.  
  
I spoke as little as possible as we all pushed and shoved in the washroom, and when I did speak it was to snap at someone. I left before anyone else and hurried to the World to get my papes. For once, I was the first in line. Jack and the others were horsing around by the gates, behind me. Jack, laughing at something Blink said, started to automatically stand in front of me in his customary place. I gave him such a look of hatred, though, that he simply frowned at me and went to stand second in line. Rotten, ain't I?  
  
Anyways, I got my papes and headed off to City Hall Park. By myself. I was in no mood to sell with anyone, and nobody offered to go with me. I'm a loner by nature, so I was actually starting to feel a little better by the time I got to City Hall. I gave it everything I had that morning, using every trick in the book. It worked, too. Though it was cold, the skies had cleared some so that people were a little more willing to stop to buy a newspaper.  
  
I'd done so well, in fact, that I had a lot of time to kill until the evening edition. I walked through the streets, aimlessly. No real destination in mind. Christmas decorations were starting to go up everywhere, and I killed almost an hour looking in the window of Kincaid's Toy Emporium. Boy, you wouldn't believe the things they got in there. Model airplanes, balls of all shapes and sizes, toy animals, bicycles, marbles of every color you could imagine, and some of the neatest tops I've ever seen.  
  
Maybe we could scrape up enough coins to get a ball or two, and some marbles, for the little kids this Christmas. They'd have to share the balls, but at least it would be somethin'. I'd hafta remember to tell Jack about it. Oh, yeah. Jack.  
  
Well, that pretty much took care of my good mood. I shoved my hands into my pockets and started walking again. I didn't get too far when I realized how hungry I was. I looked around to get my bearings then crossed the street and turned left to walk over to Goldman's Deli. Crutchy had introduced me to the place back in the spring. The food was good and it was cheap.  
  
I couldn't believe who I bumped into at the counter. Mrs. Jacobs. Who, of course, had to mention the jacket.  
  
"Racetrack, what a surprise to see you. Oh, the jacket looks very nice on you. Fits very well, doesn't it?"  
  
She fussed with the collar and smiled at me. Jeez, I couldn't very well tell her I hated wearing Dave's jacket. "Yeah, it does. Thanks for thinking of me, Mrs. Jacobs."  
  
"No trouble at all young man. I just hated to think of you out in that weather with no warm jacket." She gave the collar one last pat and stepped back. "You should drop by for dinner some night. I know Les thinks very highly of you and says your ability to play the harmonica is just the best thing ever."  
  
She laughed at that and it was such a musical sound. A distant memory floated through my mind, but it was like a wisp of fog. No substance. I couldn't get a grasp on it and it quickly floated away again. But I knew it was about my mother. Something to do with the way she laughed, I thought.  
  
I remembered she'd said something to me and gathered my scattered thoughts. "I'd like to, Mrs. Jacobs, but with Jack gone most nights somebody's gotta keep the younger kids in line. Tell Les he's always welcome to come play with Snipeshooter and the others."  
  
"I'll do that. Speaking of Les, he's waiting for me at home so I guess I'd better hurry along. You take care of yourself, young man."  
  
And I could tell by the shift in tone that she meant it. My well-being actually meant something to her. "You too, Mrs. Jacobs."  
  
You too.  
  
I grabbed a bite to eat after she left then headed back out into the cold. By the time I got back to the distribution center, the papes were ready for us. I got fifty and headed out to hit the pubs. Not to drink, though I'd probably get a little beer from the guys that thought I was too young to drink it. In that kinda cold, at that time o' day...the pubs were the best bet for a large group of people who'd probably buy a pape.  
  
I guess it was payday, 'cause there was sure a lot of guys out drinkin' that night. And generous to a poor newsie out tryin' to sell his papes. I was wishin' I'd bought more than fifty, but didn't want to hoof it back to the World for more. I sold my last pape to an angry drunk that was probably on his way home to beat his wife and kids, the bastard. He gave me a dime for the pape and I gave him four pennies and slug as change. The drunk didn't even noticed he'd been cheated.  
  
I didn't want to be anywhere nearby when he did figure out, though, so I headed back to the lodgin' house. Things hadn't gone as well for some o' the others.  
  
When I got there, I could hear angry voices from the bunkroom all the way downstairs at the front desk. I paid Kloppy my six cents, signed the book and raised my eyebrows at him in question.  
  
"You'll see. Jack ain't back yet, so I think Blink could use a hand."  
  
With a sigh, I trudged up the worn wooden stairs and wondered what had happened now. I had to push some kids aside just to get through the door to the bunkroom. "Hey, Blink! What's goin' on?"  
  
Once I'd made it through the crowd, though, I knew what was up. Crutchy was sittin' on Boots' bunk, holdin' a handkerchief to his bloody nose. Just knowin' some scabber had soaked a crip like Crutchy had my blood boilin'. Somebody was gonna pay.  
  
"Crutchy, what happened?"  
  
The poor kid was a pitiful sight, but he sat up straight as he could and tried to make it seem like it wasn't as bad as it looked. "Ah, it's nothin', Race. Some kids jumped me when I was on my way back. I think I broke one kid's arm with my crutch."  
  
"Good for you, Crutchy. You see those kids again, you tell us and we'll make sure they don't soak anybody again."  
  
Blink pulled me aside as the others crowded around Crutchy to get the blow- by-blow of the fight. "Race, they took his coat and his gloves."  
  
Damn. Crutchy would die out there without a coat. "We got any extras?"  
  
"None that'll fit him." I could hear the worry in his voice, even in a whisper. "I tried to offer him mine, but you know how he is. He wouldn't take it."  
  
"Well, we'll use money from our winter fund to get him one."  
  
Blink shook his head, running his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "I tried that, too, Race. He won't let us. Says that money is for all the newsies, not just one."  
  
"Stubborn kid's gonna die from his pride."  
  
Pride gets us all, don't it?  
  
"Well, we'll just hafta figure somethin' out. No two ways about it."  
  
"What do we do?"  
  
An idea began to form. "What else? We gamble."  
  
~~~~~***~~~~~  
  
Shout-outs. Well, shout-out. lol  
  
The Second Batgirl: Glad you're enjoying it. I don't know why I like to give Race and Jack a little confrontation. I guess because they're both such strong personalities. Anyways, it's fun. lol  
  
I'm getting near the end, I swear. 


	6. And the Snow Falls

It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. We'd picked up three new newsies before lights-out so me, Blink, Mush and Skittery had moved to the infirmary to sleep. Jack didn't know it, yet, but he'd be sleepin' in there with us. We'd given his bed to two other kids.  
  
I could hear Blink and Mush whisper back and forth, but didn't pay much attention to what they was sayin'. I was tryin' to figure the best place to get what we needed. While I was thinkin' about that, my mind would wander to memories of my mother. I'd realize what I was thinkin' about and drag my attention back to the problem of needing more coats. Next thing I know, I'm thinkin' about Jack sitting all warm and cozy over at the Jacobs' place. I couldn't concentrate and I couldn't sleep.  
  
"I see you bummers gave away my bed."  
  
"You'll like it better in here, anyways, Jack." Mush's voice was cheerful and cajoling.  
  
"Yeah, you're right about that. We're fillin' up pretty quick, ain't we?"  
  
"And how. Heya, Jack...Crutchy got soaked by a coupla scabbers who took his coat and gloves." The anger was creeping back into Blink's voice. If one of us caught up to the bums that beat up Crutchy, they'd end up bein' the ones that needed a crutch.  
  
"He know who they were?"  
  
"No, but if he sees 'em again, he's gonna let us know."  
  
"Then we'll soak 'em, 'cause I ain't havin' nobody beatin' up my newsies."  
  
I had to laugh to myself at that. His newsies. He was growin' apart from us, and seemed to be the only one that didn't know it.  
  
And, suddenly, I knew why. I was already wishing with all my heart that I belonged with a family like the Jacobs', and finding reasons to go by their place. If I was doing that, what was it like for Jack? What kinda longing was he feeling for Sarah and her family?  
  
I'd been such a heel.  
  
"Hey, Jack?"  
  
I could hear the bedsprings creak as Jack flopped down on his cot. "Yeah, Race?"  
  
"If ya find those scabbers that beat up Crutchy, let me know. I'll help ya soak 'em."  
  
"Sure Race. Wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
The words were casual, but I could hear the smile in his voice. In our own way, I'd apologized and he'd accepted. One less thing to worry about as I tried to get to sleep that night.  
  
The next morning, I set off to Grand Central Station with Skittery and Boots. They were my lookouts and backup for what I was about to do. See, with Christmas comin' up soon, the hoity-toity boarding schools were closing for winter break. The rich kids were comin' home for the holidays. Easy pickins.  
  
I found a nice private corner near a pretzel vendor then headed out into the crowd. I took my time and spent most of the morning just watching. Waiting for just the right stooge.  
  
And they finally arrived.  
  
I spotted two kids in dark gray uniforms and warm, navy wool coats coming toward me. They had camera bags slung over their shoulders, bulging wallets in their pockets and didn't seem to pay a bit of attention to anyone around them. If I didn't get 'em, a pickpocket would.  
  
The taller kid looked about 16 or 17, with short brown hair and dark eyes. I could tell by the way he looked at the shorter kid when he talked, that he thought he was a leader. That he was somethin' because he was rich. I'd fix that. The shorter kid seemed about 14 and looked up at the older kid with the same hero worship in his blue eyes that Les had in his eyes for Jack.  
  
Oh, brother. This would be easy. But only if the kids had to wait for their drivers. I followed them outside and crossed my fingers as the older kid looked around at the carriages lined up in front of the station. I saw him shake his head and the two wandered back inside. With a sly smile, I followed them inside.  
  
Sure enough, they eventually went over to the pretzel vendor to get something to eat. As they walked away with their hot pretzels, I 'accidentally' bumped into the older kid.  
  
"Hey, watch what you're doing."  
  
"Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to bump into ya."  
  
"Just who are you calling 'kid'? I bet I'm older than you."  
  
"Hey, no offense." This was easier than I thought. "You like to bet?"  
  
"What do you mean?" A little suspicion crept into his voice, and I could see the nervousness on the face of the younger kid.  
  
"You guys ever play poker? I'm waitin' on a coupla friends and playin' cards is as good a way as any other to pass the time. I'm not all that great at poker, but we could have some fun while I'm waitin' for my friends. Oh, unless you kids hafta go or somethin'."  
  
That did it. The older kid didn't like the idea of me being able to do something he couldn't do, and he was stupid enough to think I was tellin' the truth about my ability to play poker.  
  
"Sure, I guess we can play cards. It appears our chauffeur has yet to arrive and it's too cold outside to wait."  
  
"Great. Here's a good place over here. Out of the way of the crowd."  
  
Good thing I wasn't a pickpocket, 'cause the ignorant schoolboys followed me over to the private corner I'd found earlier. I slid down the wall to sit on the floor and pulled my worn deck of cards from my pocket. As I shuffled the cards, the two boys sat down across from me. The youngest shifted nervously and cleared his throat. "What's your name?"  
  
Well, considerin' I was about to take their shirts, I wasn't gonna give 'em a name that could be used to find me. "Name's Tony. Yours?"  
  
The younger boy made the introductions. "I'm William and this is my cousin, John."  
  
"Glad to meat ya. How 'bout five card stud?"  
  
And the games began. I didn't even cheat. I kept the betting to small coins then suggested one last hand with a bigger gamble. When asked what we were gambling on, I told 'em I'd put in my gold watch if they'd put in their nice wool coats. I guess they figured it was no real gamble, since Daddy would buy them new coats if they lost. They agreed and I dealt the cards for one last hand.  
  
It wasn't a gamble for them, maybe, but it was sure a gamble for me. That watch was the most important thing I owned. I traded two cards and held my breath. It wasn't the best hand in the world, but it would be enough. I hoped. William laid his cards on the cold marble floor with a disappointed sigh. Junk. I watched John's face and could tell the kid thought he really had something. I hoped he was wrong.  
  
"Pair of aces."  
  
"Pretty good." But not good enough. "Full House. Thanks for the coats, kids, we really need 'em."  
  
John didn't take that as well as I'd hoped. He stood as I gathered up the cards and picked his navy blue coat up from the floor. "You probably cheated, you street rat. I'm not giving you my coat."  
  
I slipped the deck of cards into my pocket and climbed to my feet. "You welchin' on a bet, kid? What about you, William? You a cheater, too?"  
  
William was obviously torn between keeping his word and standing with his cousin. To make the decision easier I slipped my cap off and stuck it in my pocket. That was the signal. Quicker than you can blink, Skittery and Boots were standin' behind me. "Hey, this kid thinks he's gonna welch on a bet. Can you believe that?"  
  
Cracking his knuckles and looking as dark and menacing as he's capable of, Skittery shook his head and nudged Boots. "Nah, I can't believe that. We don't think too kindly o' welchers around here, kid. I hope you reconsider."  
  
Boots crossed his arms and braced himself for a fight. It was three seasoned fighters against two soft schoolboys. Even John realized the mistake he'd made. But he wasn't going to give in with good grace. He tossed the coat at me as he shoved past. William handed his own coat to Boots and shot me an apologetic look, before following his older cousin outside to the carriage that had arrived during our game.  
  
I handed John's coat to Skittery, slipped out of David's hand-me-down and swapped it with William's coat. It almost fit me like a glove. William had been my height, but not quite as skinny. With a smile of satisfaction, I tucked Dave's old coat under my arm.  
  
"Thanks for the help, fellas."  
  
Skittery held out the coat he was holding. "Who gets this one?"  
  
I shrugged my shoulders, not really sure. "Give it to Dutchy. The coat he's wearin' is so full of holes he might as well not be wearin' anything. I'll give Dave's coat to Crutchy."  
  
I buttoned up the coat as I walked out the door of Grand Central and slipped my cap back on. Boots followed me as I turned in the direction of Duane Street. "Hey, Race, wait up. Did you cheat this time?"  
  
Patting my vest pocket through the heavy wool coat, I smiled at the reassuring bulge of the gold watch that rested there. "Nope. Won it fair and square. I only cheat when we're playing Brooklyn. They're too cocky for their own good. Need to be taken down a peg or two now and then."  
  
I slung my arm over his shoulders and laughed. "'Course, I can't let Spot catch me at it, or he'll toss me in the river."  
  
"That why you came back after a poker game soakin' wet a few months ago?"  
  
Well, Boots was my friend so I couldn't really lie to him. "Yeah, well...Spot's got sharp eyes. And he did let me hand over my watch and harmonica 'fore he tossed me in."  
  
"What are friends for?"  
  
A heavy dose of sarcasm tainted his words, but deep down...he meant it. We hopped on the back of a delivery wagon and rode most of the way back to the lodgin' house. The driver noticed us about halfway back, but let us hitch a ride anyways. Maybe it was the spirit of the season.  
  
Boots was grinnin' from ear to ear when we handed David's old coat to Crutchy. He seemed a little reluctant to take it, 'til I convinced him I hadn't cheated anyone to get the coat I was wearin'. 'Sides, I told him Dave would be happy that his old coat was keepin' Crutchy warm.  
  
Dave's reaction turned out to be a little different, when we all turned up at the World for the evening edition.  
  
"Didn't you like the coat, Race? You know, my Mom sent it over just for you."  
  
Great, now I felt about two inches tall. Not for giving the coat to Crutchy, 'cause it made better sense. The coat I was wearin' would've been too short in the sleeves for Crutchy. No, I was feelin' like a scab 'cause I knew darn well I was glad to get rid of the coat. The coat Mrs. Jacobs had meant for me. The one that reminded me every moment I wore it, of the life I'd lost.  
  
"Sure I liked it, Dave, but it don't make sense for me to keep it when it fits Crutchy better. What's more important, anyways? Your mother's feelings or Crutchy stayin' warm?"  
  
Hm. Maybe I could've said that a little better.  
  
Looking up from where he'd been showing off a new Hanukkah gift, Les frowned at me. I guess he'd heard that last part. He handed the shiny new top to Jackrabbit and came over to join me, Dave and Jack. Great.  
  
"My mother's feelings are important, Racetrack."  
  
"I'm sure they are, kid, but not as important as Crutchy. I know that coat was a gift to me from your mother, but that don't make any difference. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure these guys all make it through the winter."  
  
I could tell by the look in the kid's eyes that he was mad at me, but what was I gonna do? "Look, Les, go back over there and play with Jackrabbit 'n the others. This ain't got nothin' to do with you."  
  
He gave me a dirty look, but he went. And that didn't sit too well with Dave. "Hey, Race, you let me worry about my brother."  
  
"Gladly." It seemed no matter what, this wasn't gonna turn out the way I planned. "Thanks for the coat, Dave, but it's none o' your business what I do with it. You go home tonight to your mother, father, brother and sister. You eat a nice hot meal, put on a nice clean nightshirt and get under a pile of nice clean quilts. Then you think about the kids that ain't got nothin'. Then you worry about your damn old coat you can't even wear no more!"  
  
Jack shook his head and reached out to try to get me to shut up, but I was on a roll and couldn't seem to stop the words. I glanced over at Les then back at Davey. I poked him in the chest with my finger, angry at just about everything at the moment. "You let me worry about my brothers."  
  
I turned on my heels and walked away. Well, stomped away is probably more like it. Jack yelled after me, as I walked through the gates, "Race, where ya goin'?"  
  
I didn't even look back. "I'm gonna sell in Brooklyn. Nobody cares what I'm wearin', there."  
  
Most of the Brooklyn newsies had already gotten their papes by the time I got to their distribution center. A few stragglers were there, though, and one big kid gave me what was supposed to be a friendly shove as I joined the line. After picking myself up from the ground, I rubbed the sore spot on my shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Bruiser, how's it rollin'?"  
  
"They throw you outta Manhattan, Racetrack?"  
  
The Brooklyn kids all thought that was just the funniest thing they'd ever heard and all but fell over laughing. Either that, or they were humoring a kid that could break them in half without even breaking a sweat.  
  
"Nah, just thought I needed a change of scenery. 'Course, if I'd known you were part of the scenery, I'd've stayed home."  
  
Luckily for me, Bruiser thought that was funny. He roared with laughter and slapped me on the shoulder. Surprisingly, my arm only felt like it had been torn off. Resisting the urge to rub my shoulder, I checked the faces of the kids gathered in the courtyard. "Where's Spot?"  
  
"Sellin' over at the harbor. Trouble?"  
  
Not the kind he was thinkin' about. "Nah, just thought I'd see if he was up to a game."  
  
"I dunno. Things is pretty tight these days."  
  
"Yeah, same with us. How're your numbers?"  
  
"Growin' every night. A lot o' the factory kids lost their jobs and are lookin' for work. With no place else to go, they end up at the lodgin' houses."  
  
Looked like Brooklyn had it worse than we did. "Yeah, we got more than usual, too. If you hafta find places for some o' your factory kids, send 'em to Manhattan. We still have a few beds and there's always the floor."  
  
"We'll keep that in mind, Race." Bruiser was next in line so he slid his coins under the bars and got his papes. "Be seein' ya 'round, Manhattan."  
  
"See ya."  
  
I paid for my own papes and headed in the direction of the harbor. It didn't take me too long to find Spot. I could hear him long before I could see him. They call Dave the Mouth, but let me tell ya...Spot could easily earn that nickname.  
  
"Extry, extry! Winter kills thousands!"  
  
Chuckling, I waited 'til all his customers had paid for their papes and left before walkin' up behind him. "Somehow I don't think they'll be expecting a story about the early winter killin' off a buncha rats."  
  
Flashing me a cocky grin, Spot shrugged and shouted his headline once more. "What brings you to Brooklyn, Race? And why're you carryin' a stack o' papes?"  
  
"Mind if I sell in Brooklyn today, Spot?"  
  
"What was you gonna do if I said no?"  
  
Shooting him my own cocky grin, I shrugged one shoulder. "Sell 'em anyways."  
  
"Thought so. Sure, what's one more newsie?" Jiggling his stack of papes to straighten out a few that had begun to slip, Spot squinted at me. "You didn't answer my first question."  
  
With a sigh, I wondered where to begin. "I just need to get outta Manhattan for a day, is all. Dave's mad at me for givin' his coat to Crutchy. Les is mad at me for somethin' I said that came out the wrong way. Jack is probably mad at me for yellin' at Dave. Just seems no matter what I do, somebody's gonna be mad at me."  
  
"I have no idea what you're talkin' about, but what d'ya care what anybody thinks about ya anyway? You know they'll forget all about it in a few days."  
  
"Probably."  
  
Spot stared at me with those piercing blue eyes and I could tell he was lookin' through my poker face. He was about the only one that could. "What's really botherin' you?"  
  
I know it was an unwritten rule to not talk about the past, but I just felt like I was gonna bust open if I didn't talk to somebody. "I been thinkin' about my mother a lot lately. Rememberin' things. Good things. Things I miss and wish I could have back."  
  
Jerking his head in the direction of some buildings, Spot led me over to a narrow place between two warehouses. Sitting on an empty barrel, he gestured me over to a wooden crate opposite. "You know it don't do anybody any good to dwell on the past, Race."  
  
"I know, but I can't seem to help it. It's Jack. He's always over at Dave's. I seen their family, Spot. It's nice. Real nice. He's over there, with a mother and father, a girl and two brothers. Like being part of a family. A real honest to goodness family."  
  
"And you wish it was you?"  
  
Running my finger over the newspaper I held in my lap, I looked down and nodded my head. "I know I should be happy for him, and I am. I just wish...he'll be leavin' soon, ya know."  
  
"Yeah. I seen that during the strike. Jack's got a dream. And there ain't nothin' wrong with havin' dreams. It's all we newsies have. But dreams don't do you any good if it's dreams of a past you can't ever get back. Kids like me and you, Race...we ain't got nobody but ourselves and the other newsies. That ain't so bad, really. A lotta people ain't that lucky."  
  
Wow. I don't think I'd ever heard Spot say so much in one breath before. Especially not said that seriously. He actually sounded smart. I looked at him with a new respect and shrugged. "Guess I just need a break from the guys, is all. A break from worryin' about getting everyone through the winter."  
  
Out of Manhattan so I wouldn't be tempted to walk past the Jacob's building again.  
  
"Yeah, I been doin' the same worryin'." Spot chuckled softly. "Times like this, I wish I'd done what you did."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Said no when asked if ya wanted to be the next leader."  
  
"Lotta good it did me."  
  
"You gonna take over when Jack leaves?"  
  
That question made me a little uncomfortable. It made the idea of Jack leavin' a little too real. Too immediate. I wasn't ready for Jack to go. He was my friend, my leader...my brother. But I couldn't deny that I'd been thinking about the future lately.  
  
"No. Not really. I don't think we'll have another leader. Not like before. Me, Blink, Mush, Skits and few others that's been around a while...we'll sort of be a committee. Take votes and things like that. Work together, so no one person has to carry the full load, ya know?"  
  
Spot tilted his head and seemed to think about it. "You know, I think Manhattan's about the only place where that'd work. Well, Brooklyn is here if you ever need us."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Thanks for that, Spot."  
  
"What're friends for?"  
  
Spot spit in his hand and held it out as he stood. I spit in my own palm and slapped it against his for a handshake of friendship and loyalty. We grinned at each other and stepped back out onto the harbor street to discover it had begun to snow. The fluffy wet stuff was drifting lazily now, but we both knew it could pick up faster than you can blink.  
  
"I better head back to Manhattan before this gets any worse, Spot."  
  
"Yeah, don't want a soft bum like you getting caught in a blizzard or nothin'."  
  
"Very funny, Spot. You just worry about yourself."  
  
I waved my arm and headed in the opposite direction from Spot, back to my own territory. By the time I got to the bridge, the snow had picked up. It was comin' down fast enough that you could hear it as it landed on the streets and buildings, leaving a fine dusting of white on everything and making the cobblestone streets slippery and wet. Despite the cold, despite the weather...I felt a lot better than I had that morning, though I'm not sure why.  
  
When I opened the door to the lodgin' house...well, the wind blew it open...about ten anxious faces turned to stare at me. I could see the relief in each and every smile. Hurrying inside, I managed to shut the door with a little effort. Shivering, I stamped the snow off my boots and smiled at them. "I take it I'm the last one back?"  
  
Kloppman slid the registry book across the desk so I could sign it, and nodded. "You're the last one, Racetrack. Plus a few new ones."  
  
"Yeah, figured. It's nasty out there."  
  
Tonight would be a killer, sure as shootin'. I was glad none o' our boys would be out there in it. But a lot of other kids would be.  
  
Jack seemed to read my mind. He jerked his head toward the stairs and I followed him up. Blink, Mush, Skitts, Snaps, Dutchy and Specs followed behind. I had a feeling they'd all had a meeting of some sort while I was on my way back from Brooklyn. Jack bypassed the bunkroom where a bunch of boys were roughhousing and led us all up to the attic instead.  
  
Sitting down on one the trunks, Jack waited for the rest of us to find a place on a trunk lid or the floor before starting. "This snow don't look like it's gonna let up tonight. I don't wanna get up in the morning and see a buncha frozen street kids on my way to the World. We still got room. It'll be getting dark, soon, but we got time to make a sweep o' the streets and offer a place to sleep to any kid we can find. If they ain't got the money, I'm sure Kloppy ain't gonna turn 'em away. We can use some of our winter savings if we have to."  
  
He got no arguments from us. We spent precious minutes deciding who would go where, but we were hurrying down the stairs in no time. We left Crutchy in charge, explained where we was goin' and waved to Kloppy as we stepped back out into the blowing snow. We huddled together for a moment, arms crossed and chins tucked into turned up collars, looked at other in a silent plea to be careful then headed out in separate directions.  
  
Yep, as poor as we were...we were luckier than some. Maybe tonight we could change the luck of some other poor kid. 


	7. An Understanding Among Friends

Two hours later, my fingers were numb and my ears sore from the cold. I'd sent one street kid to the lodgin' house and found two others that flat refused to go. Said they could take care of themselves. I hoped so. The wind had died down some and kids were starting to come out into the street to have snowball fights. I chased down one snotty kid who chucked an iceball at me. Left him a black eye as a parting gift. Hey, he gave me a knot on the head. He deserved it.  
  
My feet seemed to have minds of their own, 'cause the next thing I know I hear a familiar voice among the kids yelling and playing in front of the next building. It was Les. He was all bundled up with coat, mittens, wool cap and scarf. About all I could see was his nose and eyes. Dave was standing at the top of the front steps, leaning against the doorframe. I stopped in my tracks and watched them for a few minutes, trying to make up my mind.  
  
Taking a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh, I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and decided to try to make things up with Dave. He was a newsie. Maybe not like me and the fellas, but he was a newsie just the same. I didn't like having a quarrel with another Manhattan kid.  
  
Dave saw me coming and stood up straight. He crossed his arms and frowned at me. I knew then that it wasn't going to be easy to make things up to him. I shuffled up the steps, careful not to slip, and leaned against the railing. "Heya, Dave."  
  
"Race. What're you doing here?"  
  
I looked over at Les, who was so busy lobbing snowballs at his friends that he hadn't noticed me yet. "Just out lookin' for kids who're plannin' to sleep out on the streets tonight."  
  
"Tonight? They'll freeze to death."  
  
I bit back a sarcastic retort and shrugged. "That's why we're all out lookin'. Offerin' kids a place to sleep tonight. Don't wanna walk to the World in the mornin', stepping over their corpses."  
  
I could tell by the horrified look on his face, that he'd never seen a kid lyin' in an alley...frozen stiff and deader'n a doornail. I'd seen more than a few since becomin' a street kid myself, and didn't care to see another. Not if I could help it, anyways.  
  
"Are Jack and the others out looking, too?"  
  
"Yeah, we split up to cover more ground. I'm runnin' out of time, though. It's startin' to get dark."  
  
A serious look came over Dave's face and he seemed to make up his mind about something. "Wait here a minute, will you?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
He slipped inside and shut the door behind him, leaving me standing on the stoop and wondering what he was up to. I stomped my feet and blew warm air into my hands to try to warm up a little as I waited. Just as the door opened again, Les ran up the steps, slipping and sliding in the snow.  
  
Dave stepped aside to let his sister through the door, then shut it behind her. He held up a hand to hold off Les' questions. "I'm going out to help Race with something. Sarah's going to keep an eye on you kids and make sure you don't try to follow us. You do what she tells you, or you'll catch it from our father."  
  
"But I wanna go."  
  
"I don't care. It's too cold and I don't know how long we'll be gone. You just do as you're told."  
  
I could tell the kid was about ready to hit somethin', he was so mad, but I was glad Dave had taken care of that. Last thing I wanted to worry about was a 9-year-old kid trying to keep up with us.  
  
"Let's go, Race."  
  
I waved to Les and Sarah, then led the way to an area I knew some kids usually used to take shelter. We didn't talk much. I was too cold, too tired and too worried. Dave seemed to be doing some heavy thinking about something. We trudged through the snow in silence, me lookin' one way and him another.  
  
We bumped into three kids over the next hour or so, but none of them would listen to reason. I though for sure David was gonna' punch the last kid out and just carry 'im to the lodgin' house. He just couldn't understand why the kids would be so damn stubborn. I did. Didn't make me any less angry at them, though.  
  
We'd finally given up and headed back, but didn't get far when Dave suddenly stopped and held out his arm to stop me. "Hold on a minute, Racetrack. I think I hear something."  
  
The wind had picked up by then, slinging the snow at us in waves, making us squint against the tiny stinging bits of ice. I tucked my numb chin deeper into my collar and strained to hear anything beyond the driving snow and my own chattering teeth. I was about to give up and make Dave start walking, when I finally heard it. Crying.  
  
It was coming from the alley to my right. We both took a few steps between the two old buildings, but didn't see anyone. There were a few wooden crates up against the worn brick of one of the buildings, and I suddenly knew where it was coming from. Sure enough, as I stepped closer to the crates the crying got louder.  
  
I pulled the two crates apart and revealed a boy curled up inside, wrapped in old flour sacks he'd probably stolen from the local grocer, cryin' his eyes out. He couldn't have been older than eight, with dark hair and brown eyes. I glanced back at Dave and he had the strangest look on his face. With a shrug, I turned back to the kid and pulled him up to stand in front of me.  
  
"You got a better place to sleep, kid?"  
  
Wiping his running nose with his sleeve, the kid shook his head and tried to quit blubbering.  
  
"Got any folks? Brother or sisters?"  
  
He sniffled and shook his head again. "No. Nobody, mister."  
  
I smiled at him and tried to act like things weren't as bad as they seemed. "C'mon. I gotta place for you to sleep. Tomorrow, you can come sell papes with me. You'll be okay."  
  
Next thing I know, two skinny little arms are wrapped around my waist so tight I thought the kid was gonna squish me. I patted him on the back and pried him loose. "Name's Racetrack. This here's Dave. What's your name, kid?"  
  
"Cunningham McClory Cox."  
  
"Good grief. We gotta think of a new name for you. That one's way too long."  
  
The wind picked up yet again and I decided we could think of a name as we walked. It was time to head back to a warm room. "We better get goin', Dave."  
  
He didn't need any encouragement. We walked as fast the kid was able. When that wasn't fast enough, I got the kid to climb up on my back for a piggyback ride. We could go faster that way. I glanced back at him and yelled slightly, trying to be heard over the wind and snow.  
  
"You're one lucky kid, you know. You probably woulda frozen to death tonight in that lousy crate."  
  
Hmm. Lucky. "That's your new name, kid. Lucky. Sure is easier to say."  
  
I could hear him murmuring the name in my ear, testing it out. He seemed to like it. After a few blocks, my feet felt like blocks of ice and were about as easy to move. Lucky had become heavier than anything I'd ever carried before. I staggered a little, nearly falling, and felt Dave grab me by the arm.  
  
"Let me carry him for a while, Race."  
  
Gladly. I let him take over the burden for me and felt much lighter when Lucky slid down my back to stand on his feet. I also felt colder without the kid's body warmth against my back. Shivering, I made a quick decision.  
  
"Dave, I'll never make it back to the lodgin' house with the kid. You think he can stay at your place tonight?"  
  
"Of course. Why don't you stay, too?"  
  
Not in a million years. It would be too painful. And too wonderful.  
  
"Nah, Jack and the others would worry if I didn't come home tonight. I don't want them out in this mess lookin' for me."  
  
He seemed to understand and didn't press me to stay. We made the rest of the journey to his building in silence. When we finally made it, the steps were deserted. Sarah, Les and his friends had obviously bowed to good sense and gone inside. I helped Dave get Lucky up the stairs to the front door. He looked me in the eye for a moment, not saying anything. I could see a new understanding in his expression.  
  
He spit into his palm and held out his hand. Smiling, I did the same and shook his hand. Maybe we're not so different, Dave and I.  
  
I watched them disappear inside then stood on the stoop for a moment. The temptation was too much. I told myself I was just checking up on the kid. Making sure it was okay that he stayed. I wasn't fooled. But I turned and headed around the corner, just the same. I stepped up onto the familiar barrel and pulled myself up onto the ladder then climbed the fire escape until I came to the Jacobs' window.  
  
Dave must've carried the kid all the way up the stairs, 'cause I beat him. I sat on the cold metal of the fire escape and watched as the door opened and Dave stepped inside. I couldn't hear what was said, but when Dave let Lucky slide down to stand on the floor, Mrs. Jacobs walked over and pulled the kid into a hug. I watched him wrap those skinny arms around her waist just as he'd done with me. Mrs. Jacobs turned to say something to Sarah and I could see the tears glistening in her eyes.  
  
I watched as Dave explained what we'd done, how we'd found the kid, gesturing wildly with his arms in his anger that things like that happen. I couldn't hear the anger, but I could see it in his face. I watched as Mrs. Jacobs wrapped Lucky in a blanket and sat at the table, pulling him into her lap. I watched as they all sat down to a hot supper, smiling, talking and sharing the news of the day.  
  
I watched as Les showed his new friend his toys, and showed Lucky how to spin the new top. Dave brought out a clean nightshirt that was probably one of Les' and helped Lucky change into it. I watched as Mrs. Jacobs once again wrapped him in the blanket, sat with him in the rocking chair and began to rock. I couldn't hear her, but I could see her lips move. Could see the gentle smile on her face and the wistful one on Lucky's. She was singing him a lullaby.  
  
I'd given the kid the right name...  
  
So, here I am. Sitting on this damn uncomfortable fire escape, freezing to death in the snow. I hear someone climbing up the fire escape, but I'm pretty sure I know who it is so I don't take my eyes off the scene inside the brightly lit room.  
  
"You know you've got Blink and Mush worried half to death."  
  
"Hey, Jack." I still don't look away from the window. "How'd you know I was here?"  
  
"I didn't. I came to get Dave to help me look for you."  
  
I frown a little, and finally look at Jack. "Why didn't you just use the door?"  
  
He settles down against the opposite railing and smiles self-consciously. "Habit, I guess. Glad I did."  
  
He looks inside and sees what I've been staring at. "You find the kid?"  
  
Returning my gaze to Lucky, I nod. "Me and Dave. I ran into Dave here and he went with me. The kid couldn't have made it back to the lodgin' house, and I wouldn't have been able to carry him all that way."  
  
"So he's stayin' her for the night?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What's his name?"  
  
"Lucky."  
  
"Yeah, he is."  
  
I glance at Jack in surprise then look away again. "Yeah."  
  
But I'd heard the wistfulness in Jack's voice. I'd heard the longing. I reach out and touch Jack on the sleeve to get his attention. When he looks at me, eyebrows raised in question, I smile.  
  
"Go on, Jack. Sarah will be happy to see you."  
  
He glances inside again then back at me. "Why don't you come inside, too? At least long enough to warm up."  
  
I give him a crooked grin and shake my head. Spot was right. There's no use longing for the past. No use longing for something that wasn't yours, either. "No, that's okay. You go on. I better get back to Mush and Blink before they send out a search party."  
  
"What d'ya think I am?"  
  
I laugh and, as he reaches down to open the window, I stop him. Looking at him, poker face gone so he can see how serious I am, I take a deep breath. "Jack, don't let go. You got something here. Hold on to it and keep it close to you. Fight for it and don't ever let it go."  
  
He looks a little surprised, but then he smiles at me in relief and gratitude. He knows I understand. He knows I want him to find a life that makes him happy. Why shouldn't a newsie make good with his life, anyway? I want only the best for my leader. My brother. My friend. And, as Boots said, what are friends for?  
  
END 


End file.
